Summary: An unsigned letter written to Princess Stella on the night of her graduation from Alfea, bearing some suprising news.

Disclaimer: I do not own Winx Club. The original character writing this letter is my creation.Author's Note: Notes for all of my stories can be found on my homepage, StillsAndPhotographs(dot)webs(dot)com. The notes for this story are highly recommended, especially for Stella/Brandon shippers.Don't Judge a Book

Stella of Solaria. The heiress to a powerful throne; the strong, influential princess. Everyone wants to be friends with you, because that is the closest anyone will ever get to being you.

I used to be one of them, a loyal member of your legion of admirers. I was just a freshman, and you were, too. It was your second time around and you were so confident, a seasoned veteran of the rules and rituals of Alfea. I, on the other hand, had never been away from home before. I was lost, confused, and scared. I stood in awe of your self-assurance.

I admired you from afar, but it wasn't two weeks into the semester when you changed my mind. According to you, my shoes didn't go with my outfits, my haircut was "so junior high," and my blacks never matched. I was exposed to two of your many imperfections -- you were cruel, and you were ruthless.

You continued to ridicule me for one reason or another for the entirety of our four years together here at Alfea, and I learned your many other flaws: not only were you tactless, blunt and rude, you were too arrogant to function and your ego was so big that I was surprised it fit in your (excessively lavish and oversized) dorm.

Your only redeeming trait was your ability to befriend wonderful people you didn't deserve to associate with. They made up for your heartless malice, gave me words of comfort where yours caused only pain.

But I had a secret, and what a secret it was. So many times, when I lacked a snarky comment to ease the sting of one of your insults, I longed to shout it out for all of Magix to hear. I longed to make you feel as powerless and betrayed as you made me feel every day.

I never did, though. I stood there and took your shit and kept my silence. It was always a struggle, but silence prevailed. I was afraid of your retaliation, how you would react if you knew, if I told you. A hundred times in my mind I have pictured the scene.

I shouted my secret in a fit of rage...or insanity. Before I could blink, you had used your powers to throw me headfirst into a wall. You hurled blow after blow until I was left battered and broken in a pile of debris.

It was a figment of my imagination, perhaps, but it kept me silent.

But today we graduate and part ways. It is entirely likely that we will never see each other again, and because of this I fear no retribution. Consider it a gift. I will return to you what is rightfully yours, and hold my secret in silence no longer.

My gift to you is the return of Brandon. Today is the last day I will be your boyfriend's mistress.

Yes. You read it correctly.

Brandon has been cheating on you since your sophomore year, with the sad, pitiful loser you pass in the hall without a second thought, with nothing but a snide remark and an eye roll. This is my secret.

We both knew the dangers of such an affair. If we were found out... But we couldn't resist. We were reckless. It was like jumping off a bridge just to prove that we could. Our sense of self-preservation disappeared in our thirst to break free of your oppressive nature -- and so we jumped.

I should thank you. Stella, you brought us together. Brandon saw the malicious way you treated me. He showed me compassion and tenderness, and I showed him a girl who had a heart, not a fashion magazine, beating in her chest. We gave each other what we needed, what we craved.

We stayed together simply because we could. It wasn't long before we realized that it wasn't love we felt for each other. He loved you, though. He loved you the real way, the proper way. He must have seen something in you that I cannot, because for whatever reason, he truly cares for you.

Today I give him up; I give him back. I may not like you, but no one deserves to unknowingly share the person they love, and the person you love shouldn't have to divide his affection.

I'm leaving tonight; I'm shedding my failures. I'm not looking back at my past mistakes, and don't worry; I won't miss what was never mine.

Destiny calls, Stella. You'll go off to Solaria, and eventually you will become queen. You'll marry some guy -- maybe Brandon, but probably not -- and make little princesses of your own. Then you'll sit back and wonder what the hell happened to your life. You'll wonder where all the time went, and long for the glory days when you were on top of the world, and no one cared how many insignificant nothings you had to step all over and break down to get there.

I really wish you luck on your future. But I am off to bigger and better things.

PS: I am not going to sign this letter. And you know what's sad? You abused so many people that you considered inferior that I could be anyone. You will never know the person behind this pen.

The End.

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